Before He Cheats
by Psychotic.Scam.Loves.Slash
Summary: Sam's gunna make Dean think before he cheats. Antoher Song!Fic. Implication of Wincest, Oneshot if I don't get another idea for what's gunna happen and mild language.


A/N: I don't know what happened XD This is a one-shot. I was listening to the song and was like 'zomg, that's what Sam should do to Dean!' So Yeah XD Another Song fic. I'm such a whore for them. XD I'm working on the MV version for this too XD

_Right now, he's probably slow dancing with bleach blonde tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky._

_Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot a whiskey._

_Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showin' her how to shoot a combo._

_And he don't know..._

Sam snorted with amusement at how fucking familiar those lyrics sounded. That's what he was probably doing, too. At some cheap bar, giving her a look which she returned and would sway her hips a bit as she walked to fetch their drinks, bringing them back and bumping her hip into his thigh lightly, just to get the mood right. Dean would grin broadly, giving the woman's ass a swat of playfulness. Sam laughed coldly into his glass as he downed another shot of Tequila. Uncontrolable jerk. Just couldn't keep his hands off the trunk and the headlights, could he? Christ. Sam slammed the glass down, startling the bar tender who looked at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"Rough time with the boyfriend?" Sam choked on his drink.

"But...what--How'd you--."

"I have a good gay-dar, bud." And she flashed him an understanding smile, which he was grateful for. The bar tender gave him a sympathetic look, and filled another glass. He was about to say he wouldn't be able to pay, but she interupted.

"On the house. I know how it feels." She winked at him. He gave a shy smile back, feeling his cheeks go read.

"Your boyfriend giving you the same trouble?" With the lack of a ring on her hand, she doubted she was married. She let out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, but it's not my boyfriend." She flashed him a pretty smile, and he blinked owlishly in confusion.

"Then what..." He was about to ask when it hit him. Oh...Oh!

"Oh," He voice his thoughts and heard her laugh again.

"Yeah, that's usually the reaction. If you need anything, just hollar, dawlin'." And she went to the other side of the bar, leaving a still slightly stunned Sam on his own. He snapped out, missing the chorus of the song.

_Right now, she's probably up singing some white trash version of Shania Karoke_

_Right now, she's probably sayin' "I'm drunk", and he's a thinking he's gunna get lucky,_

_Right now, he's probably dabbing on 3 dollars worth of that bathroom Polo_

_Oh, And he don't..._

Irony. It was such a bitch right now. And the song reminded him of what was probably going on as he thought about it! She's up there, swaying to the song, watching Dean with lust filled eyes and Dean's lookin' back with that same look. When she's finished she practically pulls him to her by the hips, pressing their hips together, telling him how drunk she is, and how he lets out a smoky peel of laughter at that. And then their...

Sam breaks off, shaking his head and trying to clear his mind. No, he doesn't wanna think about that. He wouldn't be able to deal with it. He mumbles under his breath as he whistles for the bar tender, Jodi, who comes out with a sympathetic smile.

"Another refill, dawlin'?" Her voice has that Canadian country undertone to it, and it makes her seem all the more trustable.

"Yeah, please." He says gently, and she places a hand on his shoulder. He let's the side of his lip twitch into a slight smile.

_That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little supped up for wheel drive_

_Carved my name into his leather seats_

_I took a louisville slugger to both headlights_

_And slashed a whole in all four tires._

_And Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats. _

Upon hearing this, Sam burst out with inane laughter, his stomach hurting. He could SO see himself bitching out on Dean's car, bashing the shit out of it, and watching it grunt and groan under the force of his blows. Jodi looked at him with a curious look, and he chuckled.

"Sorry, the lyrics are just so... I should do that to Dean's pretty little baby, see how he feels." It was silent for a moment.

_I might saved a little trouble for the next girl, _

_Cause the next time that he cheats, _

_Oh it won't be on me._

_Ohh..not on me._

"I have a sledge-hammer in the back." Sam snapped his eyes up to Jodi, whose were dancing with mirth and mischeif. A smile tugged at his lips, and it grew into a wolfish grin, unusual for his face. He nodded and she disappeared around back. The next thing he knew, he was walking the length of the car, the key screeching and biting into the metal of the car as he grinned. He did this to most of the car, before jumping into the back and taking out his switch knife, stabbing it into the leather interior of the seats and slashing it across. He busted up the headlights, tore the tires, and before he knew it, he was holding the wooden handle of the sledge-hammer firmly in his grasp, as he swung it behind him, before up and over, crashing down onto the hood of the Impala with a malevolent yet satisfying weeze the car made. He let himself laugh. Yup, this was good.

When Dean pulled up to the hotel the next morning, Dean was inches away from going into cardiac arrest at what he saw. There sat his baby, looking like it had been thrown off a cliff, and all in all looked like a truck hit it several times and it took a moment to register something else. Oh god, where was Sam? But then, just as he made a dash for the hotel room, out walked Sam, his hair still tuffed a bit and a smirk playing on his lips. Relief flooded Dean for a moment, before anger welled and he grabbed his brother by the collar of his shirt, shaking him, before gesturing to the car with an arm.

"What happened to my baby?!" He all but screamed. Sam, calmly, removed Dean's hands from his shirt and patted his cheek gently.

"I'd tell you, but I have a date." Dean's face struck one of horror. Was Sam cheating on him?! It's not like he didn't to Sam, but it wasn't like he knew... Did he? Just as he was about to speak, a nice Mustang pulled up, giving a honk and Sam's smile broadened.

"There she is. Shouldn't keep her waiitng." He was half way to the Mustang when he turned around. "Oh yeah, Dean?" The older brother looked up.

"Maybe it'll teach you a lesson." _Before you cheat again_. And with that said with a wink, he was off, hoping into the car next to the black and blond haired woman, who waved with her fingers at him, before revving the engine and driving off, leaving Dean alone with the Impala. Red-faced with anger, Dean made his way to his unrecognizable baby, putting his hand lightly on the hood and trying to bite back his tears.

"Oh, baby..." He whispered, stroking the black paint. He inspected her closely, taking in the damage. The tires were torn to shreds, and the car was etched with lines from what looked caughts by a jarred edges, and the engine didn't look like it'd work for awhile. The windows were shattered, the glass littered around and on the ground, and one of the rearview mirrors were missing. Later, he found it underneath the car, though it was flat. The outside was bad. He didn't want to find out what the inside looked like. But he had too. The seats were torn, only lightly, except for the back ones. He gaped. There in large, carved letters, was SAMMY, and even underline and below it was a recorder. He picked it up, looked at it, and pressed play. Suddenly, a voice belted forth. Dean was surprized to hear it was Sam's voice, and it was very good. If it wasn't in this situation.

_"Cause I dug my key into the side of your pretty littled supped up four wheel drive._

_Carved my name into your leather seats._

_I took a louisville slugger to both headlights, _

_and slashed a whole in all four tires. _

_Oh, and Maybe you'll think next time before you cheat._

_Whoa, before you cheat."_

Dean gaped, dumbfounded, and anger ripped through him, but also guilt. Sam was _so_ fucking dead, either way.

**TBC?**


End file.
